


Secret Sessions

by parkkate



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Painting, Portraits, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 17:50:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12041058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkkate/pseuds/parkkate
Summary: Prompted on tumblr: can you do a fic where harry is looking on the maurauders map and sees draco in a place in the castle he has never been before so when draco leaves he goes to check it out and finds that draco is painting portraits of harry?





	Secret Sessions

**Author's Note:**

> I was prompted on tumblr by [harrypotterandtheintrovertedteen](https://harrypotterandtheintrovertedteen.tumblr.com/):
> 
>  
> 
> _can you do a fic where harry is looking on the maurauders map and sees draco in a place in the castle he has never been before so when draco leaves he goes to check it out and finds that draco is painting portraits of harry?_
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO the amazing [saffie-art](https://saffie-art.tumblr.com/) (who is not only talented but soooo sweet and nice! ❤️️) allowed me to use [this stunning and perfect drawing](https://saffie-art.tumblr.com/post/164417877924/heres-another-harry-drawing-i-did-a-while-ago) as inspiration for one of the portraits. I mean just LOOK AT IT! 
> 
> Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

“Harry, are you even listening to me? Harry? HARRY!”

“I’m sorry, what?” Harry looked into Hermione’s brown eyes, the usual warmth replaced by annoyance and concern.

“Can you stop looking at that map for one second and just listen to me? You haven’t been paying attention in today’s classes either.”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry mumbled distractedly, turning his attention back to the map.

“I think you’re falling behind, Harry. Exams are only a few months away.”

“Give him some space, Hermione,” Ron groaned. “We are working hard, you know. It’s not that easy, picking up where we left off before we went to hunt down the horcruxes.”

“I am aware,” Hermione said in a disapproving tone. “I was there, remember?”

She gave Harry another concerned look but he didn’t notice. His gaze was still fixed on the Marauder’s Map, on the little dot labeled ‘Draco Malfoy’. He was pacing the length of the Slytherin common room.

It wasn’t like Harry suspected him of doing something illegal or anything like that. He was just… curious. He had been surprised to see Malfoy return to Hogwarts after the war. Harry had assumed Malfoy had gone to France with his parents. But seeing as Lucius und Narcissa were under house arrest, it probably wouldn’t have been much fun for him there.

As Harry watched Malfoy’s little dot continue its pacing he stretched his arms over his head and yawned. The warmth of the fireplace was soothing but it also made him tired.

“Guys, I think I’m going to-” Harry stopped dead. Malfoy’s dot was suddenly hurrying out of the Slytherin common room. Where was he going? And at this hour? “I think… I’m going to go for a walk,” Harry said slowly.

“What? Harry!”

But Harry was already at the portrait hole, leaving Hermione’s protests behind him.

“Lumos,” he whispered, holding the tip of his wand to the map. He frowned as he saw Malfoy heading for the kitchens. Was he just out for a late night snack? Apparently not.

Harry’s eyes widened as he realised Malfoy wasn’t going to the kitchens but was suddenly standing in the middle of the Hufflepuff common room. What in Merlin’s name was he doing there? Harry got only more confused when more dots appeared, forming some sort of circle. He recognized a few of the names, like Hannah Abbott, Padma Patil and… Neville? Luna?

What was going on? Was this some sort of secret society? Like the DA? Were they performing some kind of ritual? Harry had to find out. He sped away from Gryffindor Tower until he finally arrived in the nook on the right hand side of the kitchen corridor.

As Harry looked at the large barrels, concealing the Hufflepuff common room, he realised he had no idea how to get in. He had heard rumors that a password wasn’t required. Should he just knock? Well, it was worth a try.

As soon as his knuckles made contact with one of the barrels, Harry knew this wasn’t going to work. He waited another moment but nothing happened. Except something did. Harry gasped as a cold splash of water hit him from above, drenching him from head to foot. Only, it wasn’t water. Harry coughed violently as the stench penetrated his nostrils.

“Ugh, vinegar,” Harry moaned. Scrunching up his nose at the awful smell, he trotted back towards his own common room. But he wouldn’t admit defeat so easily. He would find out what Malfoy and the other’s were doing, no matter what.

* * *

As it turned out, this unlikely group met up every night, at exactly the same time, in the Hufflepuff common room. After monitoring their dots for about a week, Harry knew exactly when Neville would leave Gryffindor Tower to sneak off to his secret meeting. So one night, Harry waited for him, outside the portrait hole.

“What are you doing out of bed so late, dear?” the Fat Lady asked, scrutinising him.

“Oh, I’m just waiting for someone.”

At exactly this moment, the portrait swung open.

“Aha,” Harry yelled triumphantly.

“Harry,” Neville breathed, boggling slightly.

“Where are you going, Neville?” Harry asked, stretching his lips into an innocent smile.

“Oh, I, um… I’m just meeting Luna.” Harry could see how nervous Neville was.

“Well, then you won’t mind if I accompany you, would you?” Harry said cheerfully.

“Um…”

“Alright, let’s go then. Lead the way.”

Neville looked very uncomfortable as he and Harry, as Harry knew, made their way to the Hufflepuff common room. In front of the large still life, that lead into the kitchen, stood Luna, eyeing it with a faint smile on her face.

“Hi Neville. Oh, hello, Harry.” Her smile widened. “Have you decided to join us?”

Harry returned the smile, his heartbeat quickening.

“I have,” he said nonchalant. He ignored the way Neville was gaping at him and followed Luna to the barrels. He watched her closely as she started tapping one of the barrels; two taps, pause, three taps. Harry suspected it was some sort of code.

“Did you bring your own brush or do you want to borrow one of mine?” Luna asked, her eyes shining brightly.

“My own what?”

Momentarily distracted by Luna’s question, Harry spotted the white-blond hair and Slytherin robes he had been itching to see, much later than he’d usually have. His heartbeat quickened yet again as he approached Malfoy, who was sitting on a wooden stool and seemed to be in deep concentration.

“Hey guys, look who decided to join us,” Luna announced happily, skipping to another wooden stool. There were a few more, arranged in a circle, just as Harry had seen the dots on his map; and in front of each stool stood a painter’s easel.

Harry frowned. This was not what he had expected. At all.

“Potter,” Malfoy suddenly spluttered. “What are you doing here?”

Harry’s eyes wandered over to the Slytherin, who looked panic-stricken.

“I err… felt the sudden urge to paint?”

Malfoy narrowed his eyes.

“But you can’t paint.”

“You don’t know that,” Harry said defensively, knowing better than anyone that Malfoy was right. He looked around the room, full of unfinished paintings, while a few had been hung on the walls. There were so many different ones. Some were abstract, a mixture of different colours; some showed places around Hogwarts, like the Forbidden Forest.

Harry paused in front of the most cheerful painting in the room. It showed a gigantic field of daisies.

“This is yours, isn’t it?” he said, turning to Luna.

“How did you know?” she asked, beaming at him.

“Just a hunch,” he snickered, eyeing the strange bumblebee-like creatures hovering above the daisies. What caught Harry’s eye next was a very dark painting; it had all kinds of green and black mixed together and there were dangerously glimmering eyes staring back at him. It was a snake. _The_ snake.

“That’s mine,” Neville said as he stepped up beside Harry. He sounded proud but still insecure at the same time.

“Wow, Neville. I had no idea you could paint like this,” Harry muttered in awe.

“Yeah, me neither,” Neville said, looking down at his shoes.

“So you’ve all been coming here to paint every night?” Harry asked, studying the rest of the art. Neville nodded.

“At first we were just talking, you know, about the things we… couldn’t forget.” He peered at his own painting and shuddered. “And somehow it turned into this.” He gestured around the room, a fond smile on his face. Harry followed the movement of his hand until his eyes landed upon a smaller painting, sitting over the fireplace. His eyes widened involuntarily, his mind not fully comprehending what he was seeing.

Slowly, he walked over to it to examine it more closely. His mouth fell open as he stared into green eyes behind rimmed glasses. It was almost like looking into a mirror, although Harry had never given himself such an emphatic look.

The longer he looked at it, the more uncomfortable he felt. It was so weird looking at himself like that and thinking that he looked… beautiful. It seemed too self-centered but there was no other word he could think of to describe this painting. Whoever had done it, had captured Harry perfectly. Even the mole on the back of his neck, which he thought nobody had ever noticed.

“It’s great, isn’t it?”

Harry whirled around, startled. Luna chuckled as she patted his back.

“I think you look very dashing in this painting,” she said, cocking her head to the side. “Although I do prefer it when you smile.”

Harry felt the corners of his mouth twitch and gave into the warm feeling coursing through him. He draped an arm around Luna’s shoulders and placed a quick kiss on the top of her head.

“This really is something else,” Harry muttered, gazing at the painting again. “Whose is it?”

“Oh, aren’t you going to guess? I have a feeling you already know whose it is.” Luna sounded very sure of herself. Then again, she always did. Harry did have an inkling; but it couldn’t be. He slowly turned around, searching the room for grey eyes that were probably fixed on him, glowering.

“Hey, where’s Malfoy?” Harry asked, letting go of Luna.

“See? I knew you would guess correctly,” Luna smiled. Harry nodded once, before hurrying out of the common room. He saw dark robes disappear behind a corner at the end of the corridor.

“Malfoy!” Harry started running, his mind still whirling. “Malfoy, wait up!”

When Harry turned the corner, he found that Malfoy had stopped, his hands balled into fists.

“I’m not particularly in the mood to be yelled at, Potter,” he muttered darkly. Harry blinked.

“Why would I yell at you?”

Malfoy turned around, his face red, his mouth set into a sneer.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he whispered menacingly. “This wasn’t some… gesture.” He spat the last word in disgust. “This isn’t some homage to the Boy Who Lived. I’m not one of your little fans.”

Harry wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not.

“I am well aware that you aren’t,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “And I get what you’re saying, I’m just… I’m just wondering… why did you paint me?”

Harry watched him intently as Malfoy clenched his jaw and averted his eyes.

“That is none of your business.”

“Excuse me,” Harry exclaimed. “You painted me. You painted _me_! I think I’m allowed to ask why.”

Malfoy let out a humorless laugh and brought a hand to his forehead.

“I just… I couldn’t forget your eyes.” Malfoy was talking so quietly, Harry unconsciously stepped closer. He startled when Malfoy suddenly looked up again. “The way you were looking at me after the trial…” He made a strangled sound at the back of his throat. “I still have no idea what possessed you to testify in favour of me. You had no obligation to do that.” He looked away again, his voice sounding anguished. “We both know your testimony is the only thing that kept me and my family from going to Azkaban. I was so dumbstruck when they told me I was free to go.” He paused, letting out a deep sigh and leaned against the wall. “I was planning on thanking you,” he said with another humorless laugh. “But then… you were looking at me.”

Harry stood stock-still as he listened to Malfoy’s uneven breathing.

“I was looking at you,” he echoed stupidly. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Well, you weren’t just looking at me. It was the way you were looking at me.”

A tiny part in Harry’s mind whispered to him that Malfoy painting him because _he had looked at him_ was a little odd. But as everything Malfoy had just told him sank in, the voice in his head died down rather quickly.

“I’m not sure I completely understand,” Harry said truthfully. “Was I scaring you or-”

“You weren’t scaring me,” Malfoy growled. “It was just… My mind went completely blank when you looked at me. Like that.”

Harry reasoned that could mean a lot of things. But, maybe, it meant that this painting had been some kind of homage to him after all. A more personal one.

Weighing his options, he decided it was time to stop playing games and just go after what he wanted. Stepping closer to Malfoy, he mimicked his pose and leaned against the wall.

“You know, instead of going to the Hufflepuff common room tomorrow, maybe we could go down to the lake and you could… paint me there?” Harry didn’t look at Malfoy as he waited for his answer, but he could practically hear his mouth falling open.

“What?”

“Or somewhere else, you know.”

“You want to pose for a portrait? You actually want to- Why in Salazar’s name would you want to do that?”

“Why not?” Harry glanced sideways and saw that Malfoy’s face was twisted in confusion. Harry let out a dramatic sigh and let his head fall back. “Are you really not getting what I am proposing here?” He heard Malfoy snort.

“Why would you want to spend any time with me?”

“Well, I saved you from a trip to Azkaban. Might as well take advantage of it,” he said, meeting Malfoy’s gaze again. The Slytherin still didn’t look convinced.

“Right. Because you only saved me from Azkaban for purely selfish reasons.”

“Maybe,” Harry said without missing a beat. Tentatively, he moved his hand sideways until his fingers brushed Malfoy’s. The blond immediately looked down, obviously dumbstruck. “I think I’d like it if we spent some time together,” Harry murmured, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. He curled his fingers around Malfoy’s hand, hoping the other boy wouldn’t notice how clammy his palm was getting.

“I’m not sure what’s gotten into you all of a sudden,” Malfoy said, knitting his eyebrows together. “I already have enough portraits of you. I don’t need to make-”

“Wait a second, portraits? As in there’s more than the one I saw?”

Malfoy clamped his mouth shut, looking horrified.

“Oh my God, show me,” Harry almost shouted, gripping Malfoy’s hand tighter and promptly dragging him back down the corridor they came from. “If they’re as good as the one I saw…” A little smile played across Harry’s face.

“Then what?” Malfoy asked, sounding irritated. Harry smirked.

“Maybe I could be persuaded to pose naked for you one day.”

“Potter!”

Harry’s laugh echoed off the walls, as he caught a stumbling Malfoy in his arms, not intending to ever let him go again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)
> 
> [This](https://www.pottermore.com/writing-by-jk-rowling/hufflepuff-common-room) is where I got all the stuff about the Hufflepuff common room from btw ;)
> 
> Say Hi on [tumblr](https://parkkate.tumblr.com/) :)


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